


The Great Gallifrey Bake Off

by delicatelyglitterywriter



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, Bad Cooking, Cooking, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, also thasmin if you squint really hard, but it is based off of it, idk if that last tag is technically accurate, so meh, tenrose if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 15:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18153713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/pseuds/delicatelyglitterywriter
Summary: Doctors 10, 11, 12, and 13 find themselves competing against each other in their own bake off.Aka the fic that answered the question: who is the best and worst cook out of 10, 11, 12, and 13?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I have only seen one video on YouTube of The Great British Bake Off, so this is based solely on that one video. Which makes this even more nonsensical than it would be if I had seen the entirety of the show. Also, I spent about 5 hours writing this and didn't stop until 10pm so don't come at me about the mistakes. Just enjoy it. Please.
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not responsible for any injuries you may incur from laughing. Read at your own risk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The companions have an idea

“I dunno, I have this gut feeling that this is a really bad idea,” Bill mused, rubbing her thumb nervously along her bottom lip.

“That’s the point,” Clara said with a twinkle in her eye. “We all know it’s a terrible idea. That’s why we’re doing it. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

“Plus, it’ll keep them busy for a day or two,” Rose chimed in. “Until the others can convince her majesty to give back their TARDISes.”

“ _ And _ we’ll get food to eat without having to do anything except wait for it,” Amy added, sitting nonchalantly on a countertop.

“That is, assuming it’s not poisoned,” Yaz laughed. Amy shrugged.

“We can always get pizza if that happens. So, what do you say, Bill? Live a little?”

Bill glanced between the four, thinking it through. Finally, she relented with a sigh and a smile.

“Can’t be worse than some of the adventures we’ve been on,” she agreed.

And that is how four regenerations of the Doctor - the 10th, the 11th, the 12th, and the 13th (the 9th had decided it was a silly idea and so had passed)  - ended up in a kitchen, competing in their own version of The Great British Bake Off. 


	2. Challenge 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, the Doctors attempt to make fish fingers and custard from scratch

“Right, hello, Doctors,” Clara said, clapping her hands together. “Welcome to The Great Gallifrey Bake Off.”

“Like The Great British Bake Off, except for Gallifreyans,” Amy explained upon her Doctor’s confused look. He made an ‘ah’ motion with his mouth.

“For simplicity’s sake, we’ve agreed to refer to you by your numbers. So, you would be Ten, you, Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen.”

Clara motioned to each Doctor as she spoke. All the Doctors nodded in agreement.

“So, you’ll be making three things in this competition. The first thing-”

“What’s the prize?” Thirteen cut in, bouncing on her toes. Clara cast a look over her shoulder for help. They hadn’t discussed that.

“Oh, I’ve arranged that,” Amy put in with a glimmer in her eyes. Clara raised her eyebrows in interest. “It’s a surprise, but I guarantee you’ll all love it. Well, except maybe one of you, but I have an alternate prize for you if you win.”

Amy deliberately avoided looking directly at any Doctors, lest she give any clues about what the prize might me. The Doctors looked at each other, interested, already thinking about what it could be.

“Alright. Thank you, Amy.” Clara turned back to the contestants. “Any more questions before I announce the first thing you have to make?”

“Are all the ingredients we need in here?” Twelve asked. Bill nodded.

“Yeah. Plus some extra, for whatever spin you might like to put on it. You can literally use anything you find in here.”

“Just, make sure it’s edible,” Yaz added, giving Thirteen a pointed look. “No adding random objects, like string or something.”

“Oi! Why’re you looking at me?”

“I saw you eat soil.”

“That was _one_ time!”

“And paper.”

“That was just an experiment!”

“Hot glue. While it was still hot.”

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t the best idea.”

Thirteen winced at the memory. She scowled when she saw her friends laughing.

“As if you haven’t eaten things you probably shouldn’t have,” she grumbled, looking down at the bench. Her head shot up and she whirled around when Ten snorted behind her. She raised an accusatory finger.

“Don’t you start. I know for a fact that you’ve eaten plenty of things you shouldn’t have.”

“Wait, what?” Rose asked. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Doctor?”

“No,” Ten said, clearly lying as he avoided her gaze. Rose went to scold him, but Clara held her back.

“Later. We’ve got to start the contest. Any other questions?”

“Are we allowed to help each other?” Eleven asked. Clara shook her head.

“No.” She waited a moment for more questions, but none came. “Okay then, the first thing you’ll be making is fish fingers and custard.”

Eleven perked up.

“From scratch,” Clara added. “Make eight fish fingers, and as much custard as you like. We’ve decided to be generous and give you an hour and a quarter. You can add whatever personal touches you like. All of us will be judging, to make it fair.”

At that moment, Wilfred Mott entered, and Ten’s face lit up.

“Wilf!”

“Good to see you, Doctor,” he greeted with a smile. “Well, four of you!”

“Oh, and Wilf will be supervising. Just to make sure nothing...major happens. Right, any last questions.”

All the Doctors shook their heads.

“Excellent. Well, Doctors, your time starts now.”

There was a flurry of motion as the Doctors began.

* * *

Twelve read over the recipe before he started cooking, while all the other Doctors immediately threw themselves into it. He shook his head at it once he was done, and instead of reaching for a baking tray, he reached for a frying pan. Oven-baked was for wimps, in his opinion.

Then, he quietly got to work, trying to ignore the others’ antics.

“Is that 200?” Elven wondered, bent over to see the knobs on the over. “I can’t tell. All these knobbly knob things are so confusing.”

Thirteen grinned to herself. She didn’t have the best track record in the kitchen, but at least she could read an oven. That gave her the upper hand already. The _real_ problem was cracking an egg. How was she supposed to do that without getting shell into it also?

Sneakily, she glanced over at Ten, and watched his technique, flawlessly breaking an egg over the bowl, without getting any shell inside. She copied him, but more slowly and tentatively, not confident like he was. Amazingly, she was able to do it, only getting a teeny bit of shell in the bowl.

She reached her hand in and scooped out the shell with her fingers, wiping her hand on her apron. She grinned.

“I am brilliant, I am.”

Ten had managed to get all his pollock strips rolled in breadcrumbs, with the mix of flavours suggested by the recipe, by the time Eleven figured out the oven.

(Exclaiming “aHA!” very loudly, giving the rest of them a fright, they might add).

It wasn’t that difficult, really. Child’s play. He was amazed the group of companions hadn’t deliberately chosen something more difficult, just to see the lot of them fail. But then again, he supposed they were doing this as much to get something free to eat as they were to watch the Doctors fail.

Whistling to himself, he slid his fish fingers into the oven, and got started on his custard.

Back at his station, Eleven had managed to get his oven on, and his fish rolled in the breadcrumbs, avoiding the fancy ingredients the recipe had suggested. He knew the simpler the food, the better. He’d layered the breadcrumbs on quite thick. In his opinion, it was the crunch that made the fish fingers good, not the fish itself.

Meanwhile, Thirteen’s breadcrumb mixture had breadcrumbs, lemon zest, oregano, salt, and pepper, like the recipe suggested, along with cinnamon, and some chilli, to give it that extra kick. Humming to herself, she carefully rolled her fish strips in the mixture and laid them out on her tray, before putting them in the oven.

Satisfied with her work, she tore open her custard powder pack into another bowl, coughing as she inhaled the cloud of powder that came from that action. Eleven laughed at her, and she scowled.

“Why are you laughing? It took you ten minutes to figure out how to work the oven!”

“Oi! I got it done in the end, didn’t I?”

“Okay, you two, no fighting,” Wilf cut in. Eleven and Thirteen shared one more scowl, and then quietly turned back to their work.

Twelve shook his head at their antics, and flipped his fish fingers over in the frying pan.

* * *

“One minute left,” Wilf reminded the Doctors.

All the Doctors had finished cooking their fish, and making their custard (to various degrees of success; Ten’s custard could barely be called that), and were all hurrying to make their dish look the prettiest. None of them were talking - an incredible feat in itself - as they put the finishing touches on their work.

“Okay. Time’s up. Step back.”

The four of them let out a unanimous exhale as they did as they were told. Clara, Rose, Amy, and Bill re-entered the room, having been outside for an hour, wandering around and bonding.

“Mmm, smells good,” Bill observed, before wrinkling her nose. “If a bit burnt.”

“I’m surprised it doesn’t smell like there’s been a forest fire in here,” Amy chuckled. Eleven wrinkled his nose at her.

“Oi!”

The four of them went to Thirteen’s station first. Her fish fingers were stacked in a sort of pyramid shape, which was covered in various salad leaves. At least, Yaz _assumed_  they were salad leaves. The plant on the window sill looked a little barer than it had when they’d left the room. The custard was sitting in the same bowl it had been made in. Thirteen grinned at them.

“Whaddaya think?”

“It’s very green,” Rose said, biting back a grin. “Lots of leaves.”

Thirteen nodded happily. “Salad is good for you.”

“So, this is all salad?” Yaz checked, pointing at the dish. Thirteen looked affronted.

“Yes!”

“So, it’s not at all that plant over there?”

All five pairs of eyes slide over to where Yaz pointed. Thirteen blinked in surprise.

“No! Why would it be? I know humans don’t like eating plants. It’s just salad. I promise.”

Yaz grinned. Amy stepped up, demonstrating how it was meant to be eaten. All four of them took a bite at the same time, almost spitting it out immediately.

“ _What_ is in there?” Bill coughed, reaching for a glass of water. Thirteen frowned.

“Fish fingers and custard?”

“It’s spicy!” Amy complained. “It’s not meant to be spicy!”

Rose nibbled on the breadcrumb coating, her face scrunching up at the unpleasant taste. “It’s the breadcrumb stuff.”

“What did you put in there?” Clara questioned.

“Breadcrumbs, oregano, lemon skin, cinnamon, and chilli,” Thirteen listed off. “Was I not supposed to do that?”

“Cinnamon and chilli _together_?” Bill asked incredulously.

“Is that bad?”

“Cinnamon is already kind of hot,” Bill explained, pausing to gulp down the rest of her water. “And adding chilli just made it…”

She fanned her mouth with her hand to make her point. Thirteen winced.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Clara sighed, peeling the breadcrumb mixture off the fish, and tested the meat with her teeth. “At least the fish is good. Well-cooked.”

The others agreed, then tried the custard, agreeing that the custard, also, was edible. Yaz was the one who tested the salad. She found the Doctor was telling the truth. It was plain old salad.

“Well, you made something semi-edible,” Clara decided. “It wasn’t a complete disaster.”

Thirteen beamed, pumping her fist.

Next, they moved to Eleven’s station. His presentation was simpler. The eight fish fingers were lined up nicely on a plate, and a bowl of custard sat next to them. The only thing that was odd was that the fish had no breadcrumb coating.

“What’s this?” Amy asked, motioning to the incomplete fish fingers.

“Naked fish fingers!” Eleven said, grinning from ear to ear. From behind Amy, Clara crossed her arms over her chest.

“You burnt it, didn’t you?”

“What? No!” Clara glared at him. He looked down. “Maybe.”

Bill and Rose laughed, before they joined the other two in trying Eleven’s attempt at fish fingers and custard. It wasn’t spicy like Thirteen’s, which they were all grateful for, but it tasted weird. Rose wrinkled her nose, chewing on the fish.

“It’s all rubbery,” she said.

“I don’t like it,” Bill agreed.

“Overcooked,” Clara stated with a sigh. “Not a surprise, since he did burn it.”

“At least the custard is good,” Yaz offered, eating a spoonful. “ _Really_ good.”

The others tried it, and were pleasantly surprised.

“That _is_ good!” Amy said. “Probably the best I’ve ever had.”

Eleven grinned. “So, not a _total_ disaster then.”

“No,” Amy agreed. “Only _mostly_ a disaster.”

He made a face at her, which she imitated back to him. Rose had to drag her away to Ten’s station.

His looked really tempting. His fish fingers were laid neatly across his plate, and his custard was drizzled over the fish fingers.

“Oooh, this looks kind of like those desserts where they drizzle white chocolate over the top!” Bill exclaimed excitedly, biting into one of the fish fingers. The others copied. They all made a face, but didn’t spit it out, or make any complaints as they chewed.

“The custard doesn’t taste quite right,” Amy decided after a moment of contemplation.

“Yeah,” Rose said, swallowing her bite. “It tastes kind of overcooked?”

“I may, uh, have forgotten about it a bit,” Ten admitted abashedly. Rose gave him a couple of sympathetic pats at how sad he looked about it.

“Hey, it’s still tolerable. Not curdled.”

“And the fish fingers are amazing,” Amy offered.

He looked a little less miserable after that, even managing to smile. Lastly, the visited Twelve, waiting patiently.

His presentation was absolutely stunning. He’d grouped the fish fingers together around the bowl of custard that sat in the middle of the plate, and between the fish fingers, small lines of custard separated them.

Amy was the first one, picking up a fish finger, dipping it in the bowl, and biting into it.

“Oh that’s good,” she moaned, her eyes closed. The others rushed in, to taste it. They all agreed, it was amazing.

“I have nothing to complain about,” Clara said, going for another.

“Me neither,” Bill said around her mouthful. “You never told me you were so good at cooking.”

“Never asked.”

The plate was clean in no time.


	3. Challenge 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with boiling oil can be dangerous

“Now that that’s done,” Rose said, licking her fingers. “The second things you hafta make is some fish and chips.”

Ten grinned. “That was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Rose grinned back, the one where she stuck her tongue out through her teeth, and nodded.

“This one has less cooking time, so we’re giving you forty-five minutes.”

Thirteen and Eleven exchanged a nervous glance. Would that be enough time? None of the humans paid them any attention.

“Okay, time starts now,” Rose announced. “Off you go.”

* * *

The second challenge was much more eventful than the first.

To begin with, while peeling his potatoes, Eleven nearly peeled half his hand right off, too. Had Wilf not been there to stop the disaster, Eleven would have either had to present fish and chips and blood, or drop out of the competition altogether.

Following this, Ten nearly cut his fingers off while cutting his potatoes into chips. Fortunately, he stopped before the blade came down on his fingers. Thirteen, on the other hand, ended up burning her hand in her oil. Wilf stepped in quickly and helped treat her hand as best he could. But she had to sit there for a long time, letting her hand sit under cold water, meaning she couldn’t complete the contest.

Wilf called Clara, Yaz, Rose, Bill and Amy in.

“She burnt her hand quite badly in the oil.”

“And now I can’t finish,” Thirteen said quietly, tears still falling down her cheeks. Yaz and Amy were by her side instantly, comforting her. Clara and Rose stepped to the side, whispering about what to do. Bill left the room to retrieve some stuff to treat the burn.

“I dunno.,” Rose said. “It seems a shame to waste all the effort they’ve already put into making this.”

“But she’s devastated,” Clara countered, sneaking another glance over at Thirteen. “And look at the others; they’re hesitant now that one of them is hurt. I don’t think they’ll mind too much.”

They whispered a minute more, before agreeing.

“We’ve decided to stop the competition,” Clara announced. “Let Thirteen recover, and we’ll come back tomorrow and try again.”

Ten, Eleven, and Twelve all looked relieved at not having to continue on while Thirteen was in tears. They all packed up their work stations, and then rushed over to help.

“Stand aside, we’re Doctors,” Ten said to Amy and Yaz. He paused and grinned at Eleven. “Never gets old.”

Eleven mirrored his expression in agreement, and they all pulled up a stool to sit with her and help patch her up. She leaned her head on Eleven’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, letting her hand dangle under the water. Ten cheered her up by reading from a book he just so happened to carry around, and Twelve gave her a snack to improve her mood, as well.

Wilf and the others left them, feeling as if they were intruding on an intimate moment.

* * *

The next day, after being taken care of by her past regenerations, Thirteen was feeling much better, and ready to try again. She was a bit scared of getting near the oil again, so Yaz slipped her a pair of laundry gloves to protect her hands.

This time, the cooking time went over without an issue. Thirteen didn’t burn herself, Eleven didn’t nearly peel his hand off, nor did Ten nearly chop his fingers off. They were all done in time, and they all looked quite proud of their accomplishment.

Again, Clara, Rose, Amy, Yaz, and Bill started with Thirteen’s station. Her plate was stacked a bit haphazardly, the fish sticking out from underneath the mound of star-shaped chips. Amy’s eyebrows shot up.

“Star-shaped chips?”

“Stars are awesome!” Thirteen said, grinning ear to ear. None of them could disagree, and Clara stifled a laugh when she heard a sigh from Eleven sigh and mutter,

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

The humans each took a chip and bit into it. They chewed thoughtfully. Bill was the first one to speak.

“Thirteen, this is a parsnip, not a potato.”

Her face fell.

“It’s a bold choice,” Yaz put in, to try to cheer her friend up. “Not a bad one, either.”

“Hmm, yeah, unexpected,” Amy mused, reaching for some more. They seemed undecided on whether or not they liked it. The fish, however, was overcooked. Yaz powered through it, knowing Thirteen was still a bit delicate from the previous day. The others gently turned it down, instead focusing on the chips.

They managed to leave her only slightly deflated, and not absolutely devastated.

Eleven’s dish looked...interesting to say the least. His potato was shaped like a fish - a fish from a storybook - and his fish was sliced up into thin slips. Clara gave him a quizzical look.

“It’s a potato fish, and fish chips!” he said proudly, throwing his hands out in a ‘tada’ motion. Amy and Rose started laughing.

“Well, it’s, uh, certainly a unique take,” Yaz said, eyeing the food skeptically. Bill simply wondered why she’d agreed to this in the first place.

“May as well try it,” Clara sighed, reaching for the potato. She stopped midbite, pulling the object back out of her mouth and stuck her tongue out. “Did you cook this?”

“Of course I did!” Eleven insisted, offended.

“Doesn’t taste like it,” Clara said, going for a fish chip instead. Yaz also tried the potato, agreeing with her. After all the judges had tried the fish chips, it was Bill who gave her verdict first.

“They’re pretty good.”

“Yeah, but it’s not really chips,” Rose argued. “Chips are meant to be potatoes.”

“Yeah,” Amy agreed. “The name is ‘fish and chips’ not ‘fish chips and potato fish’.”

After a little discussion, they agreed that the dish wasn’t up to standard, though they praised his creativity on his interpretation of the prompt.

Ten’s dish was the first one that looked, and tasted normal. Amy, Yaz, Clara, Bill, and Rose all nodded in agreement after trying it.

“It’s pretty good,” Bill said. “I like it. Could do with a bit more salt, though.”

Lastly, they came to Twelve. His looked absolutely stunning, like something from a restaurant, complete with a bowl of tartar sauce.

“Wow!” Yaz gasped. “That looks amazing!”

“Tastes amazing, too,” Amy said, having already dug in.

“This is incredible!” Bill agreed.

“More like incredi _Bill_ ,” Twelve muttered, fighting a smile.

“Hmm?” Bill asked, having not heard. Clara, however, had, and was doubled over in laughter. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Twelve said innocently. She shrugged it off after Clara got control of her laughter. After polishing off what Twelve had made, Bill was about to announce the last dish, when Rory burst through the door.

“I hate to interrupt, but the queen is threatening to burn the TARDISes,” he explained sheepishly. “Donna may have been a touch too sassy and offended her.”

Ten sighed, already halfway to the door.

“Dammit, Donna!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i am writing and posting all of this tonight what of it. don't complain, just enjoy it.


	4. Challenge 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bake dessert, and the winner gets their prize, much to the dismay of the others, one of them in particular

Fortunately, Ten and Eleven were able to talk the queen out of burning the TARDISes, though it took the rest of the day. The third challenge had to wait until the next day. But nobody really minded. The longer they could stretch this out, the longer they could keep the Doctors occupied, and the more time the others would have to convince the queen to release the TARDISes.

“Welcome back, for the final round,” Bill greeted the four Doctors. “Your last challenge is to bake a souffle.”

Eleven laughed out loud until Clara told him to shut up.

“You’ll have an hour to make your souffle. Time starts now.”

The Doctors set about their task with the same energy they’d had on the first day of the competition.

* * *

It only took about thirty seconds for someone to mess something up.

“Oh, shoot, that’s too much butter!” Eleven muttered to himself. “Er, let’s see, I could _probably_ compensate for that with flour. That is what people do, isn’t it?”

He was looking at Ten when he asked, and Ten shrugged.

“Don’t look at me! I’ve never done this before, either.”

The next hiccup came for Thirteen, when she had to do the eggs.

“Wait, _separate_ the eggs?” Thirteen asked, panicked. “How am I supposed to do that? Uhhhh…”

She looked around for help, her eyes landing on Twelve. She watched as he expertly separated his eggs.

“ _Oh_! Like that! I see. Let’s see here…”

She stuck her tongue out in concentration as she tried to copy what Twelve had done. To her great delight, she was mostly successful, only getting a teensy bit of yolk in her whites.

“That shouldn’t matter too much, right?” she asked herself, tilting her head. After a quick consideration, she shook her head. “Nah, it’s fine.”

A little while after this, a loud curse came from Ten’s station.

“What does that _mean_ ?” he shouted at the recipe. “That doesn’t make _sense_!”

The other Doctors ignored him, letting him have his moment of frustration. Aside from those incidents, the baking went smoothly. That is, until all the souffles were in the oven. Eleven got bored and flung an olive he found at Thirteen’s head.

“Oi!”

He just grinned at her. Scrunching her face up into an attempted frown (though it was more a smile), she scooped up a bag of chocolate melts and piffed two back at Eleven. He unsuccessfully tried to dodge the melts.

“Careful,” Twelve warned gruffly, not looking up from wiping down his station. They both made a face at him. Eleven charged at Thirteen, with the intent to pick her up, just to tease her about her height, but she dropped the bag and scampered away before he could grab her. They spent the next ten minutes playing a game of cat and mouse around the kitchen, despite all Wilf’s attempts to stop them.

They only stopped when their timers dinged, and they ran back to their stations to pull their souffles out of the oven. Both frowned when they saw the burnt tops of their souffles.

“That’s what you get when you don’t pay attention,” Twelve said. Thirteen slumped down in her stool. She knew Yaz had been going easy on her, but she knew even Yaz couldn’t stomach a burnt dessert.

“This is your fault,” she snapped at Eleven. “You distracted me.”

“I know,” he sighed dejectedly, also plopping down on a stool. “I’m sorry.”

They sat there sadly until the judges came back.

* * *

Bill took one look at the two sad Doctors, and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head.

“You distracted each other, didn’t you?”

“He started it,” Thirteen mumbled. Amy winced sympathetically.

“Yeah...I don’t think we’re touching those.”

They both nodded in understanding and sat silently while Clara, Amy, Bill, Yaz, and Rose moved past to see Ten and Twelve’s souffles. They started with Ten.

“Mmm, looks good,” Clara said, licking her lips. She helped herself to a bit, and her face lit up. “That’s good!”

“Dunno what souffle is supposed to taste like,” Yaz said after swallowing. “But it tastes nice.”

Ten beamed proudly. “What do you think, Rose?”

Rose shrugged, smiling. “Well, I like it.”

He hummed happily, and Rose grinned.

They all gasped when they saw Twelve’s.

“Is that _chocolate_?” Amy asked excitedly. He nodded.

“Thought, who doesn’t like chocolate?”

They all took a big bite, all delighted with the taste. Twelve stood, smugly watching them eat the whole thing. He couldn’t help but take pride in his cooking skills.

“So, ladies, we’re all agreed on who the winner is?” Clara checked, waiting until she saw all heads nod. They made their way back up the front, and motioned for all the Doctors to bring their stools forward.

“Well, that’s that,” Amy said, taking centre stage. “You’ve all done a…”

She trailed off, unable to find the right word.

“Interesting?” Yaz suggested. Amy thought about it, but shook her head.

“Nah, doesn’t sound right. You all created... a wide range of dishes,” the other judges stifled their laughs behind her, “and I know you all did your best, but there can only be one winner. So, I am pleased to announce that Twelve is the winner. Twelve, please step forward.”

Ten, Eleven, and Thirteen clapped genuinely, knowing it had only been for fun. Although, Eleven’s clap was a bit grumpy, evidently still cross about his ruined souffle.

“And your prize is...” Amy announced, taking him by the arm, and throwing her arm out in a grand gesture. Everyone gasped when the prize entered the room.

“River,” Twelve breathed out.

It was indeed River, dressed in a beautiful black dress, looking like a goddess. Eleven swallowed thickly, and Thirteen simply gaped at her. Ten couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. He remembered her from the library, of course, but didn’t know what she meant to the rest of his faces.

“Hello, sweetie,” River greeted with a grin, tilting her chin up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve been told I’m to reward you for winning a bake off.”

“It seems that would be the case,” Twelve said, smiling. He held out his arm, which River accepted. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

They started to leave, only pausing when Thirteen let out a whimper of protest.

“That-That’s not fair!” she said, finally finding her words. “You can’t just run off with my, well, with our w-”

She was cut off by Eleven slapping his hand over her mouth. He jerked his head towards Ten.

“Spoilers!” he reprimanded. “He doesn’t know yet!”

“Know what?”

“Our...wonderful friend,” Thirteen corrected herself, pushing Eleven’s hand off her face.

River smirked at her.

“You’ll get your turn later,” she promised with a wink. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come on, could it really have been anyone or anything else? I think not.


End file.
